Stark Outlook
by whimsical-summer
Summary: The Avengers are chasing dangerous aliens across the globe. Meanwhile, Tony is attacked and captured by a mysterious organization, and his prospects aren't great. The team must neutralize the threat to Earth, but they also have to find a way to save their Iron Man. Team fic. Chap. 4: Steve worries about too many things. He, Thor, and Banner get into trouble in "Down to the Wire."
1. Capture

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**The Avengers.**_

**Note I: Hey! I know, I know, I should be finishing the last chapter of **_**Doubts**_** (which I should post by Tuesday) but I had the idea for this and I was pretty excited, so I wanted to know what people would think. Personally, though, I love writing in Stark's POV because that means getting inside his head, and it's just so much fun in there!**

**Note II: Just as a warning, there is a little bit of bad language in this, because it's Tony, and he wouldn't be in character if he didn't spout a few curses every once in a while. **

**That said, read on! **

**Stark Outlook**

**Chapter I: Capture**

Tony was in trouble. It wasn't the oh-shit-I-pissed-off-Natasha-I-am-so-screwed trouble or even the oh-shit-I-pissed-off-Pepper-I-am-so-screwed trouble. It was the I've-been-abducted-beaten-and-tied-up kind of trouble. Granted, it wasn't the first time it had happened, and it wasn't as bad as the first time with respect to the fact that he pretty much knew what was going to happen. Also, there was the fact that this time, he'd only been shot in (well, grazed on) the leg. On the other hand, his situation wasn't exactly sunshine and roses.

He was in a cave (and wasn't that just fan-flippin'-tastic, he was having flashbacks already), and it was dark, wet, and cold. It wasn't doing anything to help his leg (which hurt like hell, to put it very mildly). He wished for the thousandth time in two days that he'd taken the superspies up on their offer of self-defense training, but between missions with the team, contributing important discoveries to the scientific community (aka fooling around with Bruce and Jane in the lab), and board meetings (he couldn't really believe that he went out saving the world and he _still_ had to attend them) he just hadn't had the time.

Only his left hand was chained to the cave wall, so at least he'd been able to put pressure on his leg wound. He didn't like that the ceiling was so low or that the walls were so close together, and everything just seemed so cramped.

A couple of mooks strolled in, laughing. The tall one had an arm slung around the other's shoulders. Tony wanted to see their faces but they, like all the other guys he'd seen in this place, were wearing ski masks. The shorter one spat as they passed him, and Tony wrinkled his nose, pulling off an annoyed expression he'd been practicing for years. The mooks only laughed harder, so Tony switched tactics and chuckled along with them. "Real funny, right, guys?"

That shut them up for a few seconds, and they continued on their way into the maze of passages that all caves seemed to have.

He still didn't know what the hell they wanted him for. He could guess, of course, but it would be better to know for sure. Making weapons, maybe? Nah, they probably knew better than to let him have access to anything mechanical, and besides, they'd used state-of-the-art stuff to capture him. Money? Could be they were low on cash and wanted a ransom. Then again, if they wanted that, why hadn't they asked him?

His mind was replaying his capture on a constant loop. He'd been doing simple reconnaissance just to be safe, flying over what SHIELD had assured the team was a barren stretch of land in Egypt. (Why was it that the recon agents were always so damn _wrong_, anyway? He was starting to get why Clint and Natasha always complained about them.) The rest of the team had been finishing up a scuffle, and he hadn't wanted to leave them but the fight had been so minor that they hadn't had to do much convincing to get him to start the next stage of their mission.

One minute, he'd been blasting through the sky, scanning for any threats, and the next minute he'd been zapped by blue energy that reminded him unpleasantly of the Cube, and the suit had powered down so fast that he'd barely had time to head for the ground. He'd dropped the last six feet or so in free fall (if you ignored the air resistance factor, anyway), which had hurt. A lot. Then, about six guys had restrained him and ripped off the armor, and when he tried to make a break for it, they'd shot his right calf. That had hurt a hell of a lot more, and he must have blacked out because the next thing he remembered was being dragged through the dirt and handcuffed to the wall.

That had been about six hours ago. Maybe the team would have realized something was wrong by now, but he had no way of contacting them and they'd only have a general location to start with. He couldn't depend on them to rescue him, anyway, because they were on a very tight schedule, tracking a bunch of Chitauri-like extra-terrestrials who had delivered a pretty scary ultimatum (something about blowing up the Earth) to SHIELD a couple of days ago. So, he was going to have to get himself out of this, and the sooner, the better, because he had a bad feeling about whatever it was they were planning for him. His leg throbbed, sending waves of pain through his body, but he forced himself to think.

The minimal lighting in the cave was decreasing even more, so it was probably getting towards night. If he could just find out what their motive was, he'd be able to start making solid escape plans. Too bad info-gathering was Spider Woman's job.

Tony pretended not to notice when a man who looked kind of familiar (beyond the black uniform and ski mask, that is) walked into the cave from one of the winding passages. Maybe Tony recognized him because of the way he carried himself: ramrod-straight back (must've been military), right arm always near the gun at his side, chest puffed out slightly. Clearly, he had a high opinion of himself. _Takes one to know one, _Tony thought, a little bitterly.

The man approached him, stopping only a few feet away. Tony thought about what the others would do if they were in his place. Most of them (barring Thor) would probably decide to stay silent and let the tall man make the first move, but that wasn't really Tony's style. He looked up and forced a grin, hoping it looked like a grin and not like a manifestation of excruciating agony. "Hey! How're you doing?" He cringed internally when he heard his voice - it sounded more like a squeak.

The man's face - at least the part Tony could see through the mask, which wasn't much - didn't change, and he didn't say anything, either. Tony raised his eyebrows. "Okay, awkward silence. You know, that's okay. Some people are just socially incompetent."

That got a reaction - the guy's eyes flashed in annoyance. "Socially? Fine, I'll grant you that. But you take the prize for incompetence, Stark." He had a subtle accent that Tony couldn't place.

"I do?" Was all Tony could manage through gritted teeth. The pain was increasing, and the fuzziness at the edge of his vision was starting to spread. The only thing he could see clearly was the man's head, and even that was beginning to blur.

The man nodded, the picture of tranquility, although Tony suspected that there was a lot of emotion just underneath the surface - a lot like Bruce, and a little like Natasha. Only thing was, they knew how to channel their feelings (well, Bruce did, and at least Natasha didn't go around randomly kidnapping people). "You were shot straight out of the sky. You think someone with any measure of _competence_ would have been captured as easily as you?"

Tony didn't get a chance to answer, because the man kicked his wounded leg with the hard toe of his boot, and unconsciousness grabbed him and dragged him down.

**-Scene-**

"It's not right," Natasha said. "He never shuts up; he'd never miss a check-in, if only because he likes hearing the sound of his own voice."

Bruce shrugged. "Maybe he just forgot." He knew Tony, and the man marched to the beat of his own drum. Something might have come up that he wanted to check out, or maybe he didn't have reception. Well, the latter one was a bit unlikely, but still. Just because he wasn't in contact didn't mean that he'd dropped dead.

"What, and then he 'forgot' to respond when we called him?" Clint asked, shaking his head. "Nope, Nat's right. Something's wrong." And there he went again, backing Natasha. Bruce was starting to think that Tony's hypothesis was right and that the two spies did have some kind of telepathic mind link.

Thor crossed his arms. "I agree with Hawkeye. Stark is missing, and we must find him."

Steve held up his hands. "Hang on, everyone. We still have a mission. We've got less than seven days left to locate and neutralize the aliens."

Right, the aliens. They apparently had super bombs planted all over the world, and they had vowed to detonate them because Earth was becoming too much of a nuisance. (The aliens had let Fury know about their plan because they apparently wanted humans to "cower in fear" during their last days.) It was nothing personal, though, they had told Fury - they'd done this to plenty of other planets. Thor had dropped in from Asgard less than an hour later, with reports that the same type of aliens were massing in other parts of the galaxy, and he'd confirmed that in the past, certain other planets in the far reaches of the universe had been rendered lifeless by mysterious explosions on their surfaces.

Natasha dipped her head towards Steve. "Point taken, Cap."

Thor and Clint shared disappointed looks, but Steve started to talk again. "That said, we're not going to abandon Stark."

Bruce let out a sigh of relief. Steve always had a solution. Thor nodded. "We will split up?"

"Exactly, Thor," Steve said. "Now, we're going to need to keep our strength on the alien tracks, so we can catch them and find out where the bombs are, and how to disable them. Bruce, Thor, and I will do that. Clint and Natasha, that leaves you to find Stark."

The spies exchanged a quick glance, then looked at the rest of the team. "Right," Clint said. "We'll have him back in no time." Bruce sure hoped so. While it seemed like the only viable course of action, he didn't like the idea of separating, especially not when the power divide was so large. He knew that the spies could take care of themselves, but sometimes situations got too big for them to deal with on their own. He worried about them (and the other guy did, too, when he was out and about). They were in much more immediate danger compared to the rest of them, because they were so _human_. They had said that they wouldn't have it any other way, but sometimes he wished it wouldn't be so easy to lose them.

"Good," Steve said. "But be careful. And I want us to stay updated on everyone's progress, so we'll stay in touch through hourly check-ins. That clear?"

"Yes, sir," they chorused, and started to prepare.

**So, that's it for now. I hope you enjoyed it. I really appreciate reviews so let me know if you'd like to see more! **


	2. Desperate Times

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**The Avengers. **_

**Quick update because of all the follows, favorites, and the especially the reviewers, Cheerfully Cynical, ParanoidSchito, BeeBee Forthwright, and To. You are all wonderful and you guys made me so happy. :) If I get reviews like that again, I will post Chapter 3 tomorrow just to show you how grateful I am. **

**It's a bit short, but that's because I split the original chapter into two because it was way too long. **

**Chapter Summary: Tony has a little bit of luck thrown in with a lot of misfortune.**

**Desperate Times**

The cave didn't have much going for it, Tony decided. It was a good base, yeah, but why did they need it? And who were these people? He knew he didn't have much time, regardless of what his captors were planning for him. The skin around his gunshot wound was starting to turn pink, and the injury itself was oozing. It was really sort of gross, but worse, Tony recognized it as an infection, and it didn't look like he was getting antibiotics any time soon. Doubly worse, since he'd woken up, his vision hadn't gone fully back to normal, and he was starting to feel really cold even though it was the summer, and as far as he knew, he was still somewhere in Egypt. And that meant that he was probably running a fever already.

His mind flew to Pepper. Maybe the team had told her that he was missing, and maybe she was worried. She was always worrying about something. And the team, what were they doing? He hoped they had caught up to the aliens by now, because if the world exploded, then, well, that would be bad. Really, really bad.

Were they worried about him, too? He could picture Steve having a fit when he didn't report in on time, and he could also see them start to panic when he hadn't answered their calls. No, they wouldn't panic, would they? Nah, good ol' Cap wouldn't let them. Panicking didn't get much done. Maybe, if they got the alien job finished soon, they would come after him. But what if they got caught the same way he had? What if they died? He'd been in the suit when the blue energy had hit him, but they didn't have suits. He flinched as his brain showed him an image of Clint, Natasha, and Steve all laid on the ground, dead. Thor might be killed, too, if the energy was connected somehow to the damned Cube. And Bruce, Bruce would transform and then Hulk would rampage, maybe 'til the end of the world (which, if they didn't succeed in this latest mission, might be sooner than everyone thought).

Tony couldn't let that happen. He had to call them, tell them not to risk a rescue attempt. He just had to think of a way to get out of the handcuff, only for a few minutes. He looked around, confirming that the cave was empty (for now, at least) and gave the chain on his left arm an experimental tug. It didn't budge. Maybe he could chip it out of the cave wall. It would take a long time, considering there were only a few pebbles on the ground, but it was a plan. Maybe something else would happen, but he'd probably feel better once he started actually doing something instead of just sitting around.

He'd been chipping away for hours with the sharpest pebble he could reach, though he'd barely even nicked the cave wall, when four guards hauled a struggling woman in and handcuffed her right next to Tony. They left very quickly as she screamed what sounded like insults after them in what he guessed was Arabic. When the guards had gone, she turned to him and glanced at him very briefly.

"Hi," he said, though pretty much the only thought in his head was _Wow, she's pretty_. (This was despite the fact that even though the temperature was probably stifling, she was wearing long sleeves and a skirt that reached her ankles. He knew enough about Egypt to know that this was typical daily wear, though.) When she didn't answer after a few seconds, he realized that she must not have understood him. He wished he spoke Arabic.

She started pulling violently at the chains, but when she saw that it was pointless, she stopped and looked at him again. "I speak some English," she said clearly, though there was a very heavy, lilting accent in her voice.

"Good," Tony said, lowering his voice in case they were being monitored (though he doubted it) a little relieved to have someone to talk to. "What are you doing here?"

She ran her free hand through her thick, tangled black hair. "I'm from Cairo," she began. "I have dangerous . . . connections, I think is the word. And they -" she jerked her head towards the cave entrance - "want me to work for them, but I will not."

He shrugged. "Nice choice, but look what happened to you."

She sighed. "I have a plan."

Tony's heart jumped. His chances were looking up. If he could get out, he could meet up with the team, wherever they were now. They'd probably need his help at some point in their tangle with the aliens, especially if things weren't going well. "Great. What is it?"

She raised an eyebrow. "It is not one that involves you. You would slow me down."

He looked at her in disbelief. "Would not!"

"They may want me," she said, "but you are more important. They might let me go if I escape alone, but they would hunt us if you ran away. And you are injured."

Alright, so she had a point. Or two. It still didn't matter because once he got the suit back, he'd be in the clear. Even if it turned out that the suit was broken from the energy blast, he'd just need to make one phone call and SHIELD could extract him. He wouldn't be a problem or anything, and he told her so.

They argued in hushed whispers for several more minutes before Tony pleaded, "Please! It would be mean to leave me here! Think about what they're going to do to me - and you could save me." He could almost see her mind pause mid-thought as she registered his statement, and at that moment he knew that he had convinced her. He'd given her an option to play the hero, and she'd snapped it up. That was good to know.

Her glaring expression subsided. "Very well," she said.

He was pleased to know that people still couldn't win arguments with him even when he was feverish. He smiled at her. "Nice! I knew you'd do the right thing." The words sounded cliché coming out of his mouth, more like something Cap would say than he would. He shook off the awkward feeling and extended his free hand to her, then took it back quickly once he realized it was caked in dried blood from his leg. He nodded politely at her instead. "I'm Tony Stark."

"Yes," she said. "I know."

"Oh."

"I'm Samira," she added.

"Just Samira?" He asked.

"Just Samira."

"Right, then. Let's talk about this escape plan . . ."


	3. Desperate Measures

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**The Avengers. **_

**Yes, I'm posting early like I said I might because I love you all so much! I'd also like to thank oceanredwhite for reviewing the previous chapter, and everyone who followed and chose it as a favorite. **

**The next chapter should be posted on Monday, and it'll be about everything that Steve, Thor, and Banner have been up to so far as they focus on the "saving the world" part of the mission. Expect a battle. The chapters are going to get progressively longer once I finish with the exposition and get started with the emotional drama, so don't worry. **

**Chapter Summary: Clint and Natasha have to face old enemies with a new purpose.**

**Desperate Measures**

"What's our location?" Clint asked as he took a sip from a water bottle, keeping one hand on the steering wheel of the all-terrain Jeep. They would have opted for a Quinjet or a helicopter if they'd had the choice, but this had been the best they could get. It was still better than walking, though.

Natasha glanced at the GPS. "We're close to the long-lat where Stark made his last contact with us. See anything useful?"

He tried to shield his eyes from the sun with his hand as he looked across the desert landscape, then shook his head. "Nothin'. But that doesn't mean much. He could have gone hundreds of miles in any direction before we noticed something was wrong."

She frowned. "Yeah. Doesn't give us much to work with."

"Hey, we've done a lot more with a lot less."

"Right," she said, nodding. She still had a very bad feeling about this whole thing, but, like always, she was grateful that Clint always knew the right thing to say. They were trying to keep each other's morale up, just like always, and she was glad of it. "We could still use a few more agents. If Stark's in real trouble, things might get messy."

"Things always get messy, Nat," he said with a dismissive shrug. "And remember that Fury said that he wouldn't be able to give us a lot of help."

"This is why I just love unsanctioned missions. They're the best."

Clint grinned. "It's like black ops of a black ops. Would that black ops squared?"

She gave a short laugh. Technically, the Avengers weren't supposed to be on this mission - no one was. The team didn't even have the clearance to know about the situation. When the alien group, who'd called themselves Skrulls, had made contact a few days ago to deliver their threat, Fury had wanted to deploy full SHIELD resources, but the WSC had pitched a fit. They wanted to pursue diplomacy, so officially, SHIELD agents were exclusively engaged in peace talks with the aliens. Unsurprisingly, the aliens weren't very responsive. So, Fury had called in the team, given them a run-down of the situation, and warned them that they weren't going to have much help from SHIELD.

So far, the team hadn't found a single bomb, and they'd only had contact with half a dozen Skrulls in a short fight near Alexandria. After they had killed two of the aliens, the rest of the Skrulls had fled very quickly.

Natasha was focused on reviewing the situation in her head, so she was startled when her partner slammed on the breaks and the car lurched to a stop. She felt a wave of uneasiness. There wasn't a lot of cover on this disused desert road, and she didn't like it much.

"What's going on?" she murmured.

"Three people, about three quarters of a mile south, off the road. Couldn't tell who they were," he said.

They could deal with this, she assured herself. She was always thankful for Clint's ridiculously good eyesight. "Civilians?"

He shook his head. "Unlikely. I think we're pretty far from any settlements."

That's what she'd thought. "Should we get closer, see what they know?"

"Yeah. Let's go." They shut the car off and took only their assorted weapons with them. Natasha wrapped a scarf around her head so that only her eyes were showing. One of the best things about being in the Middle East was that it gave her an excuse for a perfect disguise. They were as inconspicuous as they could be when they crossed the plain towards the strangers, but once Natasha began to make out three fuzzy, dark shapes in the distance, she realized that staying hidden was probably a lost cause. If she could see them, then they could see her and Clint.

Soon, Natasha could see the figures very clearly, and when she did, she involuntarily wrapped her right hand around one of her guns. Before the two spies got within shouting distance of the other group, she hissed to Clint, "Red Room."

She saw him tense and adjust his grip on his bow, though he didn't have an arrow nocked yet. She wondered just what _they _were doing here. She felt very grateful that her scarf hid her face. The Red Room didn't have any pictures of Clint, as far as she knew, but the two of them were both on the hit list, and the other organization sure as hell knew what _she_ looked like.

They were close enough now that they could see the guns in the hands of the three other operatives, and Natasha recognized the man in the center of the group. He was Andrei Mirov, and he'd been a promising young spy when Natasha had been in the Red Room all those years ago. He must have moved up quickly in the ranks. She pushed away a flood of memories she really didn't want to think about at the moment.

When they got within shouting distance, the woman on the Mirov's left called out in Arabic, "Who are you?"

Clint shared a brief glance with Natasha, realized she wasn't going to do much talking because they might recognize her voice, then answered in Russian, simply to unnerve the agents. "We know _you're_ Red Room. Why should we tell you who we are?"

Natasha suppressed a sigh and a roll of her eyes. Now he was just antagonizing them. She knew that it was on her behalf, which was ludicrous (even if she did sort of appreciate it), and it wasn't going to go well. She hadn't even finished the thought when Mirov pulled out his gun and pointed it at Clint. The other two agents followed his lead.

"Because we'll shoot both of you full of lead otherwise," Mirov said, calmly enough but with a detectable sneer in his voice.

Natasha elbowed her partner so slightly that the others wouldn't see it, but Clint understood well enough and he didn't draw his bow. Instead, he held up his free hand. "Alright, alright. We're SHIELD. Satisfied?"

Mirov and the others lowered their guns. It was then, when they were no longer posed immediate threats, that it became apparent that they were not in good shape. Their clothes were tattered, their hair was mussed, they had assorted cuts and bruises, and though they held themselves strictly upright, they looked very tired. The three enemy operatives exchanged looks, and then, much to Natasha's surprise, Mirov said, "How much do you know about the aliens?"

Of course, she would never _show _real surprise in front of these people, and neither would Clint. The archer shrugged. "Enough."

"They're going to destroy the planet, yes?"

"Yeah. You tryin' to stop them?" And there he was again, being truthful whenever he got the chance. She would have done it a little differently if she was in his place, and she might berate him over his honesty later, but she wouldn't have him any other way.

The man on Mirov's left, who had a bloodstained, makeshift bandage tied roughly around his arm, nodded, and Clint went on. "Do you know what's going on around here?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Mirov said. He paused, and relaxed his frown just a little. "I hesitate to offer it, but . . . would you be interested in pooling our resources? My team and I were attacked three days ago by the Skrull. There were originally a dozen of us."

_Aliens, here? _That was interesting, if not unexpected. Still, if Stark had fought with them, things might not have gone well. What if he was dead? Natasha didn't know if the team could deal with that - and what about Pepper? God, that would be terrible. She forced herself to focus, focus. Clint clenched his jaw and sent her a glance that clearly said, _I don't like it any more than you do._

She wasn't fond of the idea at all. Clint, she could work with. She still didn't know how she'd ever managed to, but she got along with the team. Working with members of the organization that had stolen her life away before she'd been old enough to understand what she had lost? It seemed impossible.

Still, they knew more than she and Clint did, and she could understand their position - who knew how many times she'd been in a similar one herself? And it wasn't like she had to invite them back to the Tower for drinks when this was all over.

She gave a slight nod and a shrug. Clint's expression changed to one of sympathy and he gave her a look that told her that they didn't have to go through with this if she didn't want to, but she shook her head. He turned back to the other operatives. "Suspension of hostilities until we neutralize the threat?" When he received affirmation from the Red Room agents, he went on. "Then we can go back to being enemies."

Mirov gave a wry grin. "Not until the planet is ours to fight over again." He held out his hand, and Clint stepped forward and shook it after a brief moment's deliberation.

This was going to be a challenge, and not the fun kind. Natasha would have to keep her face hidden, and she wouldn't be able to talk much. If they recognized her, the whole agreement might collapse, and the altercation that would inevitably result from that was one she wanted to avoid. There weren't any better options, though, so they had to take advantage of this one. She would do it because she had to - Stark was depending on her, and the team was, too.

* * *

**So, thoughts? Predictions? Which character do you like the best in the story? Which characters are your favorite overall? Please leave a review to let me know what you think! :)**


	4. Down to the Wire

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**The Avengers. **_**Marvel does.**

**I am really sorry for the long wait, but here is an extra-long chapter to make it up to you! I'd also like to thank RintinDestiny for reviewing the previous chapter. **

**Technical Note: If you were wondering about the speed of the boat, no, I am not a sailor and I have no real-world knowledge about boats, but I did some research, and I apologize in advance if I make any mistakes. I checked around but I couldn't find any direct ferry routes from Alexandria to Crete, so Steve, Thor, and Bruce hired a fisherman to take them. The direct distance is 353.14 nautical miles, and assuming that the boat is about 30 feet long with an average speed of 25 knots, the trip should take them a little more than 14 hours. **

**Chapter Summary: Steve worries about everyone and everything. The team encounters some enemy aliens.**

**Down to the Wire**

Steve took a deep breath. Maybe Banner would do a better job at this - no, he was the team leader, and this was his responsibility. _Come on, _he ordered himself, _don't be such a coward. _He looked at the tiny cell phone in his hands and dialed.

The phone rang once. Maybe no one would answer. Twice. Oh, but then he'd have to leave a message. Three times - should he hang up?

"Steve? Sorry I didn't pick up sooner - I was in a meeting." She sounded concerned already. Of course she did. She knew he wouldn't call unless something was terribly wrong.

"Hi, Pepper," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Is something wrong?" Her voice rose. "It's Tony, isn't it?"

Oh, God, she sounded terrified. Steve wished he didn't have to tell her over the phone, it was too impersonal. "Yes, ma'am," he said, slipping habitually into the formality she'd told him not to use, but he'd just gotten her boyfriend into a horrible mess so what right did he have to call her by her nickname? He heard her gasp, and he hurried to placate her as much as he could. "He was out scouting and we lost contact with him. We don't know what happened. I'm so sorry."

"But he's not dead, not for sure?" she asked, tripping over her words in her rush.

"No. And Clint and Natasha are after him. If anyone can find him, it's them." He tried to sound hopeful, for her.

"Okay," she said, as if she was trying to convince herself. "Okay."

"Please don't worry too much," he said, though he knew that she would. "And if you hear from him, let us know."

"Bring him back, Steve. Just bring him back home."

He would, of course he would. But he knew from long experience that things didn't always work out the way they should, and that soldiers didn't always come home alive. He could just imagine Stark in a coffin, and he knew that wouldn't only break Pepper, it would break the team. "I'll do my best, ma'am."

They hung up, and Steve turned around and stared at his shield. He'd failed to protect Stark, but now he had to try to protect the rest of the world.

Steve returned to the room they had rented in a little bed and breakfast in Alexandria. Banner looked up from the map he'd been poring over and capped the red marker he'd been using to trace the aliens' possible routes. "How'd it go?"

"She took it fairly well."

"I'm wondering if we shouldn't have told her."

He shook his head. "No. She has the right to know." Banner's option spared her short-term pain, not long-term. This would give her more time to deal with everything if the situation didn't turn out well. "Have you figured anything out?"

Banner sighed. "Not really. There's nothing on the news, either - no reports of mysterious explosions, or of aliens at all."

Just then, the door opened, and Thor walked in. "I have found them. A fisherman at the docks saw four of them flying across the water. He thought they were a mirage."

Well, at least something was going right. He'd have never put Thor down as the type for subtle interrogation, but apparently the Asgardian had picked up some tactics from the team's two secret agents. "Good work," Steve told him. "Did he say which direction they took?"

Thor nodded. "Northwest."

Steve walked to the foot of his bed and began zipping his backpack. "Okay, Doctor, time to pack up. What's northwest of here?"

"Crete," Banner said, folding up the map. "Might as well check it out."

* * *

Steve paced the deck of the boat, clenching and unclenching his fists. He'd asked Fury for a helicopter, and he'd gotten a ferry instead, even though the Director had flat-out admitted that the diplomacy efforts with the aliens weren't going well at all.

They'd hired a fisherman to take them to Crete, but boats could only go so fast and they weren't scheduled to get to the port city, Ierapetra, until nine o'clock the next morning. It was late now, almost midnight, and Steve knew he should be getting some sleep but he couldn't, not while the entire world was on the verge of being destroyed.

During their last check-in, Clint and Natasha had said that they'd joined forces with a few Red Room operatives who'd seen the aliens, but they'd also said that they weren't going to be able to report regularly anymore. Steve didn't really like the turn of events, but there was nothing he could do. He just prayed that they found Stark soon.

A few hours later, Thor joined him on the deck. "Waiting is difficult, is it not?" the Asgardian asked.

Steve knew that commanders were never supposed to act stressed or upset in front of their troops, because that risked demoralizing them, but Thor was offering to listen. He was usually so optimistic that sometimes it was easy to forget that he'd been fighting wars for a long, long time, and that he was wise about a lot of things. Steve sighed and leaned over the railing to look at the dark sea. "I'm just worried. I'd feel a lot better if the rest of the team was here."

Thor nodded. "As would I."

"We only have five days left. And Fury isn't doing much to help us."

"Before we left SHIELD, I spoke with him, and I told him that we could try to bring as many human children to Asgard as we can, in case we do not succeed."

This was news to Steve. And if Thor was worried about their chances, that wasn't good. "What'd he say?"

Thor looked away angrily. "He refused."

They were silent for a while. To Steve, Fury had always seemed like such a strong leader, and he'd always known what to do. What if he was so confident in the team's ability to win that he wasn't considering the other option? What if he was too afraid to consider it? "Afraid" was never a term that Steve ever would have thought of assigning to the Director of SHIELD, but here he was. _Come on, get a hold of yourself,_ he ordered himself. If his thoughts started to head down that road, if he started to doubt his leaders, he made defeat even more likely. He turned to Thor as an idea struck him. "Your friends," he said. "Didn't Jane and Darcy tell us that your friends came here to help you?"_ Could they help us?_

Thor understood the unasked question, though, and shook his head, swiftly ending whatever hope Steve had. "I'm sorry, my friend, they cannot. Asgard is under siege."

"What?"

"I did not want to worry you. There has been trouble among the other planets for a long time. Our old enemies, the Frost Giants, are allied with the Chitauri, and they try to break through our defenses every hour of every day."

Steve felt guilt wash over him. How could they keep him here if his home was in trouble? "Don't you want to be there?"

Thor shook his head. "You see, I have two oaths: one to Asgard, and one to the Earth, and I cannot fulfill one without breaking the other. Asgard has many mighty warriors serving it, and I can be of more use here."

Steve understood, but he didn't envy Thor's position. He couldn't imagine having to decide between two homes, but a selfish part of him was glad that the Asgardian had chosen this one.

The sky was just beginning to lighten when the first mate approached and began speaking to Thor. It was lucky that the latter spoke the Alltongue, because neither Steve nor Banner understood Arabic enough to hold a decent conversation.

"He says that we are passing the isle of Gaidouronisi, and that he and the captain saw strange lights coming from the shore. He wants to know if we would like to stop here for a few minutes."

Steve jogged to the other side of the boat, and saw a bright blue light coming from somewhere in the distance, as if there was a lighthouse. Thor, who had followed him, frowned. "I shall tell him that we would like to stop."

Steve nodded, and went below deck to wake Banner.

* * *

Half an hour later, the three Avengers were standing on the coast of the small island with their backpacks, which they'd been told was only about three miles wide. The ship's crew watched them from a safe distance. Steve started trekking through the sand, followed by his teammates. It wasn't very dark anymore, and they could see a stone tower, rising up from an old church sitting atop a small hill, straight ahead of them. The odd-looking lights had gone out the second they'd set foot on the island.

Maybe the light had just been a few beachgoers who'd arrived early to beat the crowds - no, of course it wasn't, because when did normal things ever happen to _them_?

They hiked up the hill as quietly as they could, but there wasn't much cover and whoever was here probably knew that they were, too. They reached the entrance of the ancient church. Banner peeked inside, and stepped back just as quickly, nodding. "It's them," he whispered.

Thor adjusted his grip on Mjolnir and Steve hefted his shield. And then a grenade dropped from the top of the tower and exploded, sending the three of them flying backward from the impact, and Steve blacked out.

* * *

"Captain? Steve?" The voice seemed very far off, but it was familiar, and that was enough to give Steve the strength to force his eyes open. Bright light blinded him as he did so, and he felt a stabbing pain in his head. He groaned. Soon, though, his vision adjusted and he found himself looking at what he thought was the inside of the church. About thirty Skrulls glared back at him through their pale eyes. He tried to move, and realized belatedly that the burning on his wrists was from rope, and that he was tied to a rough wooden pole that definitely didn't belong inside the church.

Thor was next to him, similarly bound, looking concerned, and Banner was on his other side, knocked out cold. The latter fact alone was enough to make Steve nervous. Although he'd known it could happen from some of Banner's stories, he'd never actually seen the doctor unconscious before. His own shield was lying about ten feet away, totally out of reach.

He tried to loosen the ropes around his wrists as he turned back to Thor. "Are you okay? How did this happen?"

The Asgardian shrugged. "All three of us were knocked unconscious," he whispered. "And I think these ropes are charmed so as not to be easily broken."

"Charmed?" Steve asked. "Can you do anything?"

Thor shook his head. "We should wait for an opportunity, but we must escape before Banner wakes."

"Agreed," Steve said. He and Thor might both be seriously injured if the doctor Hulked out while they were so close.

One of the Skrull chose that moment to stalk over to them, holding a knife in one hand. It started to speak, and Thor translated for Steve. Apparently it said it would delight in their deaths and cut off their heads to put on display for the rest of the world. Thor explained that the Skrulls had a very warlike culture, and then asked it where the bombs were. Its reply was not very helpful, as it said only that the other world-destroyers were scattered across the planet. Wait. The _other _world-destroyers. He exchanged glances with the Asgardian, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

Steve started to look around the decrepit church. These thirty Skrulls must be here to set up one of the bombs, and this morning he'd seen that blue light. He looked up, into the tower, expecting to see a bomb hanging in midair or something crazy like that, but everything seemed normal. He abandoned that theory and continued searching the building, with no luck. Maybe he was wrong, and Thor had translated incorrectly. He hung his head, feeling more exhausted than ever.

It was then that he realized the dirt floor underneath him had recently been disturbed and replaced. He glanced to the left, where a group of the aliens were standing in front of a pile of shovels.

They were sitting on top of the bomb.

"Thor, they buried it underneath us," he said, managing to keep his voice quiet and calm.

The Asgardian chose that moment to kick the Skrull who was still standing in front of him, toppling it. Steve watched as the alien's knife fell out of its hands to be quickly recovered by Thor, who used the small blade to slice through his ropes. Now free, he handed the knife to Steve, who began cutting his own bonds.

Thor's hammer flew through the church's open door and into his hand as Steve shook off the last of his ropes and began working on Banner's. By now, Thor had dispatched about a dozen Skrulls, and the rest were wary of him. A few began to slink out of the building.

Steve freed the doctor with a final cut just as he started to wake up.

"Don't Hulk out," Steve ordered desperately before Banner could say anything. He switched his attention back to the ongoing battle, where Thor was doing a fine job of fending off the Skrulls, who were about as adept as the Chitauri had been at the Battle of Manhattan. Steve made a dive for his shield, grabbed an alien's discarded laser gun, and began firing.

The fight lasted about fifteen more minutes, and when it was over, Steve and Thor turned to look at Banner, who'd gotten ahold of a shovel and had dug up the bomb, putting his energy to good use. The thing glowed with the same eerie blue light that they'd seen this morning. Steve found it hard to believe that such a small thing (relatively - it was a little bigger than his shield) could contain so much destructive power. He guessed it worked similarly to an atomic bomb, but then again, he was no scientist.

Steve and Thor watched, catching their breath, as Banner began to dismantle the bomb.

"Thor," Steve began, picking up the knife they'd used to cut their ropes and discarding the laser gun. "Why did this work? I thought you said the ropes were charmed."

The Asgardian offered him a tired smile. "They were, but the knife is under a spell also. It probably works against many enchantments. You should keep it in case we need it."

Steve considered that, then tucked the knife into his belt, hoping against hope that they wouldn't need it anytime soon. He looked back up, then caught sight of a Skrull they'd thought was dead getting shakily to its feet.

He took a step toward it. "Hey!"

"Tell us where the other bombs are," Thor said.

Almost surprisingly, it began to speak, and it must have named locations because Thor looked satisfied. All of a sudden, it removed a contraption from the grasp of one of its dead comrades, and Steve felt adrenaline rush through him as he saw that it was a remote that would detonate the bomb. He leaped toward the alien, but it had already pushed the single button by the time he collided with it and sent them both sprawling. The remote started blinking and beeping, and Steve had a horrible flashback of much the same thing happening in the bank at the Battle of Manhattan.

"Banner, hurry!" Thor shouted.

"I'm hurrying!" the doctor shouted back.

Everything seemed to freeze for a split second, and then the remote stopped blinking, and Banner leaned back and breathed a loud sigh of relief. "We're good."

* * *

The three Avengers staggered outside, welcoming the warmth and peace of the island. The blue water was lapping gently on the white sand, seagulls were calling, and the sun was bright. Some days, Steve thought, it was good to be alive.

He was very confident that today was one of those days until he saw the silhouette of a fishing boat on the horizon. With a sinking feeling, he turned to his friends and saw his own shock mirrored in their faces.

"There goes our ride," Banner said forlornly.

"Hey, what's that?" Steve asked.

The other two turned to look in the direction he was pointing, and Thor laughed. Soon, Banner started chuckling, and Steve grinned despite having been abandoned by their boat.

Because, on the other side of the hill, a flying Skrull chariot was waiting.

Ten minutes later, the three Avengers were soaring through the sky over the calm waters of the Mediterranean.


End file.
